Work With Me Baby, Work With Me!
by Persephone-Granger
Summary: Draco and Hermione must race against time in order to prove a prophecy wrong. If they can’t, it will cost them their freedom. But will they really mind?
1. The Prophecy

Title:  Work With Me Baby, Work With Me!

Rating: R

Pairing: DM/HG

Summary:  Draco and Hermione must race against time in order to prove a prophecy wrong.  If they can't, it will cost them their freedom.  But will they really mind?

Disclaimer:  JK Rowling owns Draco, Hermione, and oh yeah, Harry and the rest.

1:  The Prophecy

Hermione Granger, Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic, had some errands to run, one of which required her to drop by the Department of Ministries.  She didn't like it here; it reminded her of those terrible events in her fifth year. 

She studied the note in her hand.

_Hermione,_

_An item is needed from the Department of Mysteries.  It is on row 97.  You should be able to recognize it immediately.  I hate to ask you, but it is of utmost importance._

_Albus__ Dumbledore,_

_Headmaster_

_Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

It _would have to be on row 97, she thought glumly.  But that had been nine years ago.  Nine years ago, when the days of the Dark Lord had just begun.  __And now they're nearly over, she thought exultantly.  __We're going to win, I know it._

The elevator doors whooshed open.  "Department of Mysteries."

Hermione wondered what she needed.  Dumbledore's note had been very vague.  She arrived at row 97.  Steeling herself, she walked down the row, searching, searching…

What…?

She paused in front of a low shelf.  She thought she saw… her eyes widened.  

S.P.T. to M.M.

(?) Draco Malfoy

And (?)  Hermione Granger

She couldn't believe her eyes.  This had to be it.  "You should be able to recognize it immediately," she whispered under her breath.  She took the small glass sphere with shaking hands and tucked it into her specially designed pouch.

When she arrived back at the Minister's office, he wasn't there.  Albus Dumbledore was sitting behind the table.  Professor McGonagall was there, Remus Lupin too, and Professor Snape.

"Miss Granger," Minerva McGonagall exclaimed with delight.  Hermione smiled and hugged her former teacher.  Snape gave her a frosty nod.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Remus said.  He looked tired, Hermione noted with concern.  "Honestly, I can never profess to understand you, Albus."

"That's probably why he's the greatest wizard of his time and you're not," Snape offered.

Remus gave him a dirty look.  "As I was saying, it has come to our attention that a prophecy- a very important prophecy- was made twenty four years ago.  It was made to Minerva.  At that time we didn't know who or what it pertained to.  Hermione, hand over the prophecy, if you will."

Hermione's mouth was hanging open.  "A prophecy?  What kind of prophecy?"  She clutched her pouch protectively.

McGonagall cleared her throat.  "Would you care to take a look?"  She stretched out her hand.

Snape's voice cut the air.  "We are waiting for one other, or have you all forgotten?"

The door opened.  If Hermione's blood had been chilled before, it had now been turned to ice, brought, no doubt, by the icy cold platinum blond Slytherin in front of her.  He was tall, very tall, and had the lean build of a star Quidditch player… which of course he had been in their days at Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy stepped into the room, nodding politely at everyone in the room.  He hesitated briefly before nodding at Hermione.  She nodded back.  Her insides were churning.  She hadn't seen him in years.  Since his father had been imprisoned in Azkaban, Draco had turned "Snape", spying on the Death Eaters for the Order of the Phoenix.  She knew all this because Harry had told her.  She couldn't believe her best friend would be working side by side by his nemesis for so many years; but then, that was Harry.  Of course, Draco had done so reluctantly; Hermione was sure of it.  _Nothing like being on the winning side, she thought.  __One had to protect the family assets, after all._

Draco took a seat next to Snape and studied Granger under his eyelashes.  He was curious, very curious, about why they wanted him here.  And why they wanted her here too.  Snape had mentioned something about a prophecy.  It hadn't made any sense at the time.  Snape could be one enigmatic bastard when he wanted to be.

 "Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, if you please," McGonagall said crisply.  Draco and Hermione exchanged glances.  It was just like being in school again.  Draco smirked.  Hermione looked like she was hiding a grin.

McGonagall held out her hand for the prophecy.  Hermione took it out of her pouch.  Snape nodded and touched his wand to the glass sphere.  A smoky figure rose; Professor Trelawney.  She seemed to be looking right at Draco and Hermione.

"THE PORTENTS OF THE DARK LORD'S DEFEAT ARE HERE… WHEN THE PURE OF BLOOD AND THE BLOOD OF MAN UNITE IN THE NINTH YEAR OF THE DARK LORD THE DRAGON WILL RISE… BEHOLD, THE DRAGON'S MATE WILL BE IN THE HEART OF HIS ENEMY AND FRIEND… BLOOD OF MAN WILL SHE BE. AND THEY WILL UNITE WHEN THE BLACK AND THE RED HAVE BORNE FRUIT… THE PORTENTS OF THE DARK LORD'S DEFEAT ARE HERE…"

Silence filled the room as the smoky figure vanished.  Hermione's heart was pounding.  She locked eyes with Dumbledore.  He seemed almost apologetic, but there was a twinkle in his eye.  Her eyes shifted to his desk.  There was a picture there… of the Minister's new granddaughter.  Harry and Ginny and their new little daughter.  _When the black and the red have borne fruit… _

"How…" she paused.  "How do you know it's me?"

Draco was quiet.  He seemed stunned.  There was no mistaking, after all, who the Dragon was.

"The dragon's mate will be in the heart of his enemy and friend," Remus quoted.  "That narrows it down, don't you think?"  Hermione flushed.  "Blood of man.  It means a Muggle-born," he continued.

"That doesn't mean anything, he could have many enemies!" she protested.  "And there are many Muggle-born witches!"

"And you want us to- what, exactly?"  Draco wanted to know.

Snape's smile was positively gleeful.  "Why, get married of course."


	2. The Problem with Prophecies

Title:  Work With Me Baby, Work With Me!

Rating: R

Pairing: DM/HG

Summary:  Draco and Hermione must race against time in order to prove a prophecy wrong.  If they can't, it will cost them their freedom.  But will they really mind?

Disclaimer:  JK Rowling owns Draco, Hermione, and oh yeah, Harry and the rest.

2:  The Problem with Prophecies

For once, Draco Malfoy found himself at loss for words.  His mind was racing.  Surely they couldn't be _serious?  Oh, but this was absurd._

"Professor Snape, a word, if you please," he said, gritting his teeth.

Snape looked amused.  "But of course, Mr. Malfoy.  Excuse us."  Draco surged to his feet.

"_No."_

Draco paused, his hand on the doorknob, and turned around.  Hermione was shaking, her hands clenched in fists at her sides.  "If you have to say something… if _any_ of you have to say something…" she lifted her chin "… you say it here.  To me… and… and to Malfoy."

"Fine," Draco bit out.  "This is absurd.  You drag us all into the Minister of Magic's office and expect us… to… to marry each other?"

Thus far Dumbledore had remained quiet.  He spoke now.  "Yes."

Hermione fumed.  "Arranged marriages went out of fashion in the 18th century!  This is ridiculous, this is…"

Dumbledore held up his hand.  "We're not forcing you."

"I thought we were?"  Remus said.  "Wasn't this the whole point?"

Dumbledore flashed him a Look.  Remus quieted down.  

"The reason you're here is to make you aware that the prophecy exists.  So far we've been trying to find out who the Dragon and his mate could be, and…" they shrugged.

"I know who it is!  It's Ginny!"  Hermione said excitedly.

Snape snickered.  "Ginny's _married.  I don't relish telling Potter that he has to marry his wife off to his childhood arch-nemesis, but go ahead if you really have that big of a death wish."_

Hermione pouted.

Draco laughed.  "This really is getting ridiculous.  No one has to marry anybody.  It's just a prophecy.  Prophecies are open to interpretation.  It all depends on who's reading them.  That's why they're so bloody vague.  That's the problem with prophecies.  You can't really be sure what the bloody hell they're talking about.  Stop sneering at me, Professor Snape."

Snape was lurking right behind Draco's right shoulder.

"And stop lurking!"

Snape pouted.  "Well I happen to know you've been in love with Hermione Granger since you were thirteen years old.  So it's not like it would be that bad, on your part."

A slow flush crept up Draco's neck.  "That is beside the point."  He risked a glance.  Hermione was looking at him with her mouth open.  

"What is this, Astonishing Revelations Day?" Remus marveled.  "Oh, close your mouth, Hermione.  We wouldn't want anything flying in.  There's my girl."  He gently pushed her jaw up.

"I… I can't…"  Hermione grabbed her pouch and flew out of the room.

Draco's hands clenched into fists at his sides.  He exhaled loudly.  "Now that my lovely bride to be has exited the room, will you please tell me exactly what it is you want?"

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling even more.  Draco longed to bash his head in.  "It's simple, Mr. Malfoy.  You and Miss Granger were two of the best students Hogwarts has ever seen.  If it is indeed not you and not she who are referred to in this prophecy, we need to know who is.  And time is running out.  If anyone has a desperate need to know what indeed is meant by it, it is you two.  You who are the obvious persons being referred to by the prophecy."

Remus smiled broadly.  "In short, we want you to do research or we're going to force you to marry anyway.  Oh, and it's not like you can't get divorced in case you don't get results on time," he assured him.

Draco raised one eyebrow at him.  "Thanks a lot."

* * *

Hermione leaned against the wall next to the Minister's office.  She was breathing funny.  People kept giving her weird looks and keeping a wide berth as they passed.  A particularly brave wizard passed close to her.  She snarled at him and he moved hastily away.

Her hands were shaking.  

She had always been prepared to fight for the cause.  Die for it, even.  Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think she would have to marry for it.  It would almost be funny if it weren't so dire.  What a cliché it was!  She fingered the end of her ponytail and scowled.  Damn Sybil Trelawney!  Damn Voldemort!  Damn everybody!

"Is this a private conversation, or can anyone join in?"

She gave Draco a grumpy look.  "It's not funny."

He leaned on the wall next to her.  "The good news is we have eight weeks to figure out who the prophecy is actually referring to."

She sighed.  "You _know it's us, Malfoy.  Who else could it be?"_

"How many times have I told you, Granger, that Gryffindor isn't the center of the world?  It's a bloody prophecy, it didn't name names."  He shrugged elegantly.  "There must be other people named Draco scattered around Britain who are destined to marry the sweetheart of his childhood arch-enemy."

In spite of herself, she laughed.

"And anyway," he continued, taking her arm and steering her down the hall, "Remus Lupin assures me that we could just get divorced right away in case we didn't meet our deadline."

She shot him a look.  "_Not funny," she said again._

"Well I'm not exactly jumping for joy here, _darling_," Draco shot back, exasperated.

"Don't call me that!"

He sighed.  "We'll never find a way out of this if you don't cooperate, _precious_.  Now will you listen to what I have to say?  Dumbledore had quite a lot of things to add after you made your dramatic exit."

She was still staring mutinously at him.

"I'm beginning to see why you Gryffindors were in trouble all the time," he said conversationally, steering her down the hall.  "All that impetuous energy, tsk tsk, acting on the spur of the moment, never stopping to think and _plan_…" he shrugged.  "Slytherins were always up to no good, but I'll tell you this, we did it in style."

Hermione looked at him in shock.  To his surprise, a small smile crept across her face.  "Merlin," she said, shaking her head.

"What?" Draco was puzzled.

She was laughing softly now, her hand over her mouth.  "Oh, Malfoy," she gasped.  "That was spot on!  You can't imagine how many times I told-" her eyes widened in shock.

"Oh, my my," Draco drawled.  "Why do I have a feeling I'm in for another Astounding Revelation?"

Hermione wailed, "Harry!  Ron!"

Draco rolled his eyes.  "I_ knew you couldn't go through another 5 minutes without mentioning those two," he started._

"Shut up, Malfoy," said a voice, positively dripping with derision, and unmistakably Ron Weasley's.  "Is he bothering you, Hermione?"

Draco tensed at the feel of what was also unmistakably a wand- pointed right at the small of his back.  He locked eyes with Hermione.  "_Sweetheart," he drawled very calmly, smiling a little as he heard Ron's snarl, "call off your hounds will you?  I mean, you wouldn't want their impetuous Gryffindor hides strung up for the likes of me, would you?  Especially as it turns out I'm so… _special_."_

"Ron," Hermione said in a strangled voice, "put your bloody wand down!"


	3. Ron Rants

Title:  Work With Me Baby, Work With Me!

Rating: R

Pairing: DM/HG

Summary:  Draco and Hermione must race against time in order to prove a prophecy wrong.  If they can't, it will cost them their freedom.  But will they really mind?

Disclaimer:  JK Rowling owns Draco, Hermione, and oh yeah, Harry and the rest.  The first part of The Slap flashback is from PoA by JK Rowling.

3: Ron Rants

Ron was seething.

"That bloody wanker," he complained.  "I think I finally know Malfoy's purpose in life, Harry.  And it's to make me miserable."

"And to marry Hermione, apparently," Harry added.

"That's _not helpful," Ron grumbled._

Harry scooped up his little daughter.  "Goo," the baby said at him.

"Goo to you, too," Harry agreed.  "Listen, Ron, Malfoy's not as bad as he used to be.  Still a snob, still has ice in his veins, but I think he knows where his interests lie."

Ron smashed his hand into a wall.  The baby started, and her lips started trembling.  "No, no, no," Harry said frantically, cradling her gently against his shoulder.  "Hush, Lily, shh shhh," he whispered, glaring all the while at Ron.  "If you make her cry, I'm going to sic Ginny on you!" he added in the same cooing tone.

Ron had the grace to look sheepish.  "Sorry, mate," he mumbled.  Lily looked up at him.  "Sorry, your little Lilyness," he added.

Lily smiled at him.  "Ba ba ba ba!" she said sunnily.

"Didja hear that, Harry?  Lily says Malfoy's a bloody wanker.  She agrees with me."

"_Ron," Harry said warningly._

Ron dropped defeatedly onto the window seat.  They had gone back to Harry and Ginny's flat after having tea with Hermione and Malfoy.  She had left with him, ostensibly to look things up in the library.

"I never told you this, mate," Ron began slowly.

Harry, his back to Ron, smirked.  _And now comes the big confession, he thought smugly to himself.  "Told me what?"_

Ron took a deep breath.  "Iwasgonnaskhertomarryme."

"What?!  Oh, no, shhh shhhh," Harry whispered frantically as Lily frowned.  He gave Ron a level look.  "When, exactly, were you planning to do this?  On your deathbed, fifty years from now?  _Oh, by the way, Hermione, I've been in love with you for years and years and I never had the courage to say it, could you possibly marry me before I expire, I always wanted to die in your arms," he said sardonically._

Ron flushed.  "I asked her out… last month.  We've been.  Dating.  I suppose," he said finally.  "I guess you've always known I loved her."

Harry grinned.  "Ron, mate, the whole school knew back then.  With the sole exception of Hermione, I suppose."

Ron turned even redder, if that were possible.  "Anyway," he went on, "I thought that maybe… well… that she wouldn't… go out with me… if she didn't have feelings for me too…"

"And you were going to ask her to marry her.  Yes, we know."  Harry made a face.  "I mean honestly, Ron… the number of times you said her name in your sleep… well…"

"What?" Ron's voice was strangled.

"And… well… poor Neville had to cast a silencing charm over his bed.  He couldn't take it, sitting next to her in Potions.  He was terribly embarrassed."

Ron sulked.

***

Across town, Hermione was sulking too.

Draco watched her out of the corner of his eye as he leafed through a very old genealogy book with _Tojours__ Pur stamped on it in gold letters.  She was obviously thinking hard; she was chewing on her lower lip and once in a while she'd shake her head._

"A galleon for your thoughts?" he asked finally.

A wisp of a smile flitted over her lips.  "That's so like you, Malfoy.  You always did have too much money than you knew what to do with."

He shrugged.  And waited.  Finally, she spoke.  "I'm just.  Oh.  This is.  I mean did you see.  Ron."

His lips thinned.  "I should've known you were still carrying a torch for the Weasel."

She shook her head.  "I don't.  Well.  It was just so, expected, you see," she said.  "Harry and Ginny were together.  It seemed like we would always be friends.  And being with Ron, well, it just, seemed right I suppose.  And I thought that's what everyone… expected," she said again.  "But now Dumbledore sets this prophecy before me and, oh I don't know …"

He flipped a page.  "I guess you've always done what was expected."

She studied her nails.  "There were times when I didn't."  A grin flitted across her face.  "Remember when I slapped you, back in our third year?"

He scowled.  "How could I forget?"

How, indeed could he forget.

* * *

_Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione got there first- SMACK!_

_She had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster.  Malfoy staggered.  Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again._

_"Don't you dare_ call Hagrid pathetic, you foul- you evil-"__

_"Hermione!" said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back._

_"Get off, _Ron!"__

_Hermione pulled out her wand.  Malfoy stepped backward.  Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered._

_"C'mon," Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway into the dungeons._

_His breath was coming in short pants; his cheeks were red with rage.  He could feel the imprint of her palm against his skin.  Her palm… her skin… the shock of it had stunned him speechless._

_Draco__, in Hogwarts, was the untouchable Prince of Slytherin, the embodiment of Tojours Pur.  Rarely had he ever allowed anyone to touch him.  He had an aloof air that made people keep their distance.  Even the girls- oh yes, they were starting to notice him, even the fourth and fifth years- they wanted him, but he was beyond their reach, their ice prince.  But this girl… this mudblood __had dared to touch him._

_And his blood was rushing, his heart was pounding, his head was spinning with the unexpectedness of it._

_He touched his cheek where she had slapped him and stepped into the portrait hole leading into their common room._

* * *

He realized that Hermione was looking at him strangely.  "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing," he replied shortly.  "Are you going to help me out or not?"

She didn't say anything, but reached out and plucked the book from his hands and closed it.  Ignoring his look of protest, she said, "What we need is a plan."

"What, no rushing impetuously into our course of action?" Draco wanted to know.  "I thought you were a Gryffindor!"

She took quills and parchment out of her bag and began to write.  Draco looked over her shoulder.  She tried to ignore the way his hair brushed her cheek.   "Prophecy solutions," he read.  "Number one.  There must be other people named Draco scattered around Britain who are destined to marry the sweetheart of his childhood arch-enemy."

His lips twitched.

"I can't think of anything else," she confessed, staring at her fingers, at the table, at the floor, anywhere but the smirking platinum blonde sitting next to her.

"Me neither," he said.  "And anyway, you stole my idea."

Silence.

"C'mon, _darling.  Let's take a walk."  He grasped her wrist firmly in his hand and led her away from the table.  "I think better when I'm flying, but I don't think you'd go for that, so walking will have to do."_

A/N:  Hey, thanks for the reviews!  I was really sort of just testing the waters to see if anyone would like it.  As long as you like it, I'll keep writing it.  The next chapters might take a little longer though; these first three were almost completely written up.  Any suggestions or plot bunnies are most welcome!


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